


Never-Ending Game

by SpaceAce28



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Conductor Neku, F/F, M/M, Rating may go up, Reapers, dark themes, depictions of erasure, erasure, idk I need to plan it better, josh is a bit not good?, messed up ideologies, some side relationships if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:17:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAce28/pseuds/SpaceAce28
Summary: He’s safe, he’s won his game, the dead can’t hurt him now. That’s what Neku thinks as he laughs alongside his newfound friends. But what he doesn’t realize is that while he may have won the Game, that doesn’t mean the Game is done with him. He may think he’s free, but he’s on borrowed time and a certain Composer was ready to show him the joys of being dead, again.





	1. Prologue: Alive

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is the first fanfic I’ve written that I actually posted. Let me know what you think! I’m a bit rusty

It took a while after the game for things to go back to normal.

It was a strange feeling really, to go from being dead to living again.

Where every text wasn’t a new reaper mission, where noise wouldn’t jump out at them, and for them to stop looking over their shoulders, fearful a reaper might jump them. It was surreal and Neku wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Sure Shiki, Beat, Rhyme and him were closer than ever because of it, but it was only out of necessity. They had gone through the unthinkable: dying, having something precious taken from them, playing a twisted game to win their lives and entry fees back, becoming trapped by a misanthropic Composer and finally, coming back to life.

Three weeks of hell later and Neku has his life back, but it was better in a way. He didn’t hate the world anymore, he had friends, he had a purpose. He knew what death was like and refused to return to its clutches. But no matter how hard Neku tried to live a normal life, traces of the game stayed with him.

He didn’t dare say anything to the others. How would he explain it? “Hey not to be weird or anything but I can still see Noise and players sometimes...” “By the way guys, do any of you still see Pinky and Lollipop?”

His friends didn’t say anything about it, so he stayed silent and tried to ignore the desperate screams of players as best he could. “C’mon!! We can’t give up now!” “We’ve got sixty minutes to defeat the GM, lets go!”

Neku wished he could help them, he really did. He knew what it was like to be in their shoes, felt that same desperation and determination to win. But his game was over and he was alive.

The UG couldn’t touch him now.

No more being someone’s proxy, no more cryptic messages and Composers once bent on destroying a city they deemed filthy and unredeemable.

He was free.

So he did his best to ignore these wisps of the UG, did his best to act like he didn’t notice every wall reaper and Harrier was staring at him like they knew he could see them too. They were fuzzy, blurred, like looking into the distance on a hot summer’s day.

“They’re nothing.” Neku reminds himself, shuddering as a wall reaper’s gaze seemed to pierce through his soul under his ink black hoodie and maroon handkerchief. He shakes it off, steels himself as best he can before reminding himself that he’s in the RG, nothing in the UG can hurt him now.

Yet he can’t seem to shake the foreboding feeling that something bad is going to happen, that by some cruel twist of fate he’s going to be sucked back into playing the Reaper’s Game.

It’s nonsense, utter nonsense he reminds himself as he feels the gaze of reapers upon him.

Reapers that know him, respect him, applaud him. Reapers who wouldn’t dare hurt him, pull him back into the game that has been hell for everyone involved when he had done so much for all of them.

He managed to get the reapers erased by taboo noise resurrected and stopped Shibuya and all its inhabitants from being erased.

How terrible it was for Neku then that the one who had its eyes set on him was no reaper at all, but something much worse.


	2. The Eyes of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a thing. Thank you for all the support on the last chapter! This one is a bit longer than the last one, still shaking off rust and nerves. I'm trying to figure out a better way to format it, so bear with me if it looks funky or odd. Fair warning, Josh has a ~bit~ of a God complex in this one. Hope you enjoy!

Joshua was perched atop building 104 inspecting his city.

To be more accurate, he had his eyes on a certain orange-haired boy who was making his way through the Scramble. It was the dawn of a new game and inexperienced Players were being picked off left and right.

Joshua found it amusing how Neku flinched every time a Player’s scream was cut short, killed once more and turned into Noise, unrecognizable shells of their former existence. Joshua found it poetic how even in their weakness they could help others become stronger as Noise, encouraging survivors to do their best in a game that was trying to weed them out.

He knew Neku thought it was one of the many injustices of the UG, judging by his pained yet heated gaze as another Player fell to a Noise attack. Those dark blue eyes danced  with the flames of indignant anger. His lips formed a whispered curse, eyes glancing around to see if his fellow RG members took note of his strange behavior. When no one paid him any attention, Neku visibly relaxed shaking his head as freshly spawned Noise swirled around him. 

Joshua found it amusing that Neku still cared about a world that didn’t care about him. No one spared him a second glance, brushing his curse off as the muttering of a teenage boy who had forgotten something at home, someone who was having a particularly bad day or even chalked him up to be one of the many low-life teenagers Shibuya was home to.

Joshua wondered if Neku thought about the name he made for himself during his Game. He was a nobody in the RG but a legend in the UG. He was the boy who had died and fought his way back to life in the Long Game yet nobody knew it except Beat, Rhyme, Shiki and of course, Joshua.

He thought it was a shame really that such imagination, such potential, should be wasted in the RG.

“Do you believe in God, Neku dearest? After all the things you have witnessed, the things you were forced to do... Do you still humor the notion that somewhere out there there is a benevolent God who will reward you for your actions?” Joshua mused, his wings stretching out behind him as a white light covered him.

It was the kind of white that hurt to look at, the kind that made you turn away or close your eyes tight for fear of going blind. “I hope you believe in God because he is watching you Neku. And let me tell you, he is not liking what he is seeing.” Joshua growled, deep and guttural, his eyes glinting with a jealous, possessive gaze.

There was no softness to him, no hint of a benevolent nature. He was all sharp angles and talons, a beautiful and deadly work of art. He was blinding in his glory yet there was no one to gaze upon his wrathful splendor.

He was a God to a city that did not know of his existence.

Among thousands of inhabitants there were three people who knew him, who trusted him-a foolhardy decision in his opinion- but were on their way to forgetting about him.

Joshua couldn’t stand it.

He was not going to be forgotten that easily, he refused to be. He was going to drag Neku back to where he belonged, kicking and screaming if he had to.

He wasn’t just going to sit idly by as his proxy grew up and entertained thoughts of leaving Shibuya, of leaving Joshua. It was a waste, it was a disgrace, it was an insult to everything Joshua had planned.

A wicked smile crept its way onto Joshua’s face, a devious smirk more befitting of a demon than the angelic presence he was portraying. Leaping off 104, he landed gently on the ground and weaved his way through the crowd.

It was amazing what you could do when you were invisible.

He picked his way through the throngs of people, carefully keeping tabs on his beloved proxy. Joshua saw him turn and make his way towards Hachiko.

He sighed, knowing Neku’s friends would arrive any second and they'd go off on some vomit-inducing friendship adventure that reminds them how lucky they are to be alive and to know each other.

“Disgusting,” Joshua spits, venom dripping from his lips.

They should be thanking Joshua, after all he is the one who brought them back to life and made sure they weren’t killed in some unfortunate accident before their time was truly up, he thought indignantly.

But this was fine, everything was fine Joshua convinced himself as he watched Neku laugh in response to some corny joke Beat made as he walked up with his sister. “Soon everything will be the way it’s supposed to be,” Joshua thought, watching Neku smile shyly as Shiki walked up, trademark stuffed animal in hand.

He fished his phone out and typed out a quick message.

_Meet me at WildKat Cafe. Time limit is sixty minutes. Hope to see you soon Neku~. -Joshua._

Joshua may be cruel, but he is not completely without mercy. He’d allow Neku a few moments with his friends before making his life a total nightmare.

Smiling wickedly he set off whistling towards Hanekoma’s cafe. He had a lot of planning and preparation to do.

A Composer can only do so much without a Conductor after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is appreciated.


	3. The Game Never Lets Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is any of this real? Or is it all in his head?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Here is where things get heavy. There are graphic thoughts and depictions of being erased in this chapter. Much like in canon TWEWY, to be erased is to die for real. If death or meditations on death disturb you, please skip over this chapter. If you do choose to skip and would like a summary of what happened please let me know and I will provide one.

* * *

 

Neku was trying to live as much of a normal life as he could after the game. He went to school, made good grades, hung out with his friends whenever he could and even thought about joining some kind of after school club. He hadn't heard from Joshua since the Game despite his attempts to include him. So eventually he went about his way. He chose to live in reality instead of being stuck in the horrors of the UG, of dying, seeing people killed before his eyes, of having his friend betray him before coming back to life.

The past could shape him but it wouldn't define him. There was nothing for him in the past, no use in constantly looking back, paranoid of when Reapers or Joshua would take him by surprise and drag him back for another week of fresh hell.

The future laid ahead and it was up to Neku if he would run towards it or wrap himself in the strangely comforting horror of the past.

Shibuya is the same, but different. He was at a crosswalk, patiently waiting as the light switches from red to green. The irony of it isn't lost on him. He's just like the RG members he saw on his first day at the Scramble. Nameless, faceless, too preoccupied with living and all its mundane activities to notice the dead teens that cried for help. They see him, he knows it but he isn't sure if he can do anything to help them. He feels heartless as they scream, desperately wanting somebody, anybody to hear them.

He wants to help but he knows he can't. His pins were currently useless and interfering with the Game when you were still alive was a big no-no as he learned. He could only watch in abject horror as a Player was erased right in front of him, their eyes wide and terrified.They didn't want to die, and hardly had the chance to prove themselves, to redeem their souls before their existence was wiped away.

Like they were never born, _like they never mattered_.

He wonders if they at least had the courtesy and advantage of knowing the rules before they started playing. He wonders if anyone else had their memory taken away or if he was just special.

There's a girl over there fighting against Noise Number 1 and she's putting up a fight. She's decent with pins and burns with the desire to live, to beat the game and return to whatever life awaits her on the other side. He hopes she makes it but he hopes too quickly. A Thrasher Bear comes up behind her, slashes its claws across her back and she cries out. Before she has the chance to get up a Frog Noise jumps on her, draining the last bit of her health. She chokes back a sob as she disappears, screaming at the cruelty of it all. Then she's gone, transformed into Noise, a Player too weak to survive Day One and betters others chances of winning.

"Damn!" Neku curses before quickly looking around to see if anybody noticed his outburst. When nobody so much as spared him a glance, he relaxed and forced himself to continue on his way to Hachiko.

It wasn't fair. He was alive, why was he still a witness to the Game? Their transaction was over, he had no business with the dead.

There's a Wall Reaper up ahead and Neku hesitates, if only for a second. It's like looking at a mirage, a hazy image that barely flickers into existence. Blink and it’s gone, stare at it and you can see right through it. Neku shudders before remembering that he isn't a Player, so the Reaper probably can't bother him. Even if he wanted to, why would he mess with some kid in the RG? There's a pair of Players arguing over whether they should make Jupiter of the Monkey or Lapin Angelique the top brand, why not mess with them instead? They were the permissible targets after all, to be heckled and attacked until the population dwindled and only the select, the elite few remained.

The Game and all its rules were sadistic, its intricacies far beyond his understanding. Frankly, Neku didn't know if he wanted to understand it all.

He wonders what happened to that girl’s partner, what kind of duo they would have made. She could have won it all if she had a partner to rely on. It wasn’t fair. It was cruel and unusual punishment, she had the talent and makings of someone who could survive, of someone who had lost something precious and would do anything to get it back, much like every other Player on the playing field.

They were fighting for something precious, their lives, their right to exist, their individual entry fees, things forcibly taken from them. Things they had taken for granted.

Neku shudders before reminding himself that it's all part of the Game, as stupid and cruel as it all is. Maybe some higher up will notice her, untangle her imagination from the Noise and make her into some beautiful piece of music or resurrect her and give her another chance. He knows he's dreaming but he just doesn't know what to do and he hates it. He hates feeling helpless, like there was something more he could do but he just doesn't know what.

So he pushes all thoughts of the Game away and walks toward the Wall Reaper, convinced he has some form of PTSD that is making him imagine the Players, the Reapers. He convinces himself that these aren't new Players, just memories playing in his mind, reminders of the weeks he's had. Their hazy forms make them seem like they're from a dream but their screams are from a nightmare.

_The Game is a nightmare he cannot wake from._

"They're just bad memories,"  Neku reminds himself silently, walking up to the Reaper. But when he sees the Reaper smile at him and say "Hey kid, good to see you again," his blood runs cold. He glances around, seeing no one around him. His eyes dare to glance up at the shadowy face of the Reaper and sees a smile, wide and blinding and _predatory_. He has the absurd impulse that the Reaper has too many teeth for his mouth, sharp, crowding things that could rip him to shreds if he wasn't careful, that the shadows across his face are swirling, hiding something sinister in their depths.

It makes him wonder if the things he sees really are memories or cruel reality. He shakes off his unease and continues on his way, feeling the eyes of the Reaper track him as he walks away.

 _He may be free, but he feels more hunted now than he ever did during the Game_.

He waits at Hachiko and ignores the stares he gets. He’s a teenager after all, one of many that loiter by the loyal dog’s statue.

A hum escapes his lips, a quiet melody that adds to the music in the air. He can’t tell if it’s music per say, but it's definitely something.

All that talk of “Shibuya’s music” and Composers, of Conductors and Producers must have really gone to his head. Neku swears he can hear the music now, notes wafting out from the living composition that is Shibuya.

Sometimes it’s soft and sweet, string instruments and woodwinds combining together to create the sense that all was right with the world. That for one shining moment everything was in perfect harmony.

Other times it is a harsh, discordant mess of sounds and it _hurts_ to listen to. It makes Neku screw his eyes close and plug his ears, but nothing works. If anything, it makes it worse. The sounds become louder, more blaring and obnoxious, as if insulted that Neku tried to block their hideous sound out. But it hurt so bad to listen to, like nails being scraped on chalkboard, jackhammers busting through concrete being played on repeat in his mind.

Those kinds of melodies had been more common as of late, and Neku had to smile and pretend like his ears aren't about to bleed from the sheer noise of it all. When he couldn’t take it anymore he feigned headaches and headed to the abandoned overpass, putting his headphones on and turning his music up until the noise became bearable. It never completely went away, just became deadened, the harsh, jerking melodies somewhat softened by the beats flowing through his headphones.

It was a miracle he didn’t have hearing damage, the extents he went to to kill the noise in his mind.

A laugh breaks him out of his thoughts. “Yo Phones! Don’t think so hard or else smoke will come out of your ears!” Beat exclaims, far too smug about his witty observation.

Despite his best attempts, Neku cracks a smile. “You would know Beat! Anybody asks you a question that requires a shred of common sense and your brain completely shuts down,” Neku laughs, ducking to avoid the playful swipe Beat throws at him.

“Ah, shuddap Phones!” His grin is like the sun, bright but not blinding, warming everything it touches. Neku finds it grounding, a lighthouse amidst the chaotic noise in his mind.

Rhyme, on the other hand, gives a soft, shy smile. Much like the moon reflects the sun, Rhyme’s smile is a reflection of her brothers, albeit to a less blinding degree. “Hey Neku, good to see you,” she says, her voice soft but holding the authority of wisdom far beyond her physical age.

Shiki wasn’t far behind them, trademark stuffed cat in hand, a bashful yet excited grin gracing her features. It isn’t long before she’s rambling about the newest sewing project she’s working on, the genuine joy on her face could be seen by even the most casual glance.

Beat joins in, complaining about his job and school, but adds that his teachers have found he is quite gifted with numbers.

After a few gentle nudges Rhyme shares how she joined an after school writers club and one of her pieces won a prize in a school contest.

As they ramble and swap stories about their lives, Neku all but forgets about the music he hears. The tuneless rhythm slowly straightening out into a gentler, more pleasant sound.  

In that moment they are teenagers again. They aren’t players in some arbitrary game that requires unbearable sacrifice and the meaningless death of children in order to operate. They weren't kids who had gone through the unspeakable in order to earn their right to live, to act like they hadn't died in the first place. Briefly, Neku wonders if previous winners could remember the things he could, or if it was the final, wicked scheme created by Joshua to get him to remember what all he had learned, what he had sacrificed, to be where he is today.

But looking at, laughing with friends, making plans to eat at Ramen Don later, Neku realizes it doesn't matter. He is alive and that is all that matters. He isn't anyone's proxy anymore, he is simply a teenager worrying about when the math homework is due, or what he will do for the school festival, or complain about his shitty job to his friends, the one he keep going to to make minimum wage in order to buy that bass guitar he's been idolizing in the pawn shop window.

_For the first time, he feels truly in control of his life._

The feeling is so carefree, full of pure teenage excitement and emotion that Neku can’t help but be swept along with it. He feels happy for the first time in a long while, thoughts of his Game and the mirage of present Games far from his mind. He is living life, with all the mundane excitement that comes with it. Nothing life changing, just the joy of simply being alive and experiencing the things he once took for granted.

But joy, much like sadness, must pass in its own time. Neku only wished he could have could have held onto the moment a little longer before he is ripped from his reverie by the buzzing of his phone.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he scans the message and feels his blood turn to ice. It's a creeping, restrictive feeling, his body paralyzed as he reads the message bubble that has popped up.

_Meet me at WildKat Cafe. Time limit is sixty minutes. Failure to comply will result in a very angry Composer. -Joshua._

It takes all Neku has to not drop his phone in shock. Suddenly his hand is on fire, a sharp stinging pain he is all too familiar with. A pain he thought he would never have to feel again.

Slowly he raises his hand up and what he sees makes him sick.

Thick black letters highlighted in red greet him, counting down to a meeting he never wanted to go to.

_59:48_

His friends ask what’s wrong.

_59:37_

He hears the blood pounding in his head, the raucous melody of Shibuya greeting him again.

_58:57_

Slowly, hands trembling, he reaches out to his friends.

_58:55_

He sees their eyes widen in terror, the terror of knowing that something is wrong but not having the knowledge or capability to help.

_58:50_

“Neku? Neku what's wrong?!”

“Phones, hey yo Phones! W-what's happening?”

“Quick Shiki, call someone!”

_58:47_

He feels like throwing up.

_58:45_

The noise grows louder.

“It hurts it hurts oh dear GOd iT HURTS”

_58:43_

Time seems to slow down.

Neku feels himself falling, the terrified, concerned faces of his friends swimming in his vision.

_58:40_

He blacks out before he hits the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd like usual, so I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them. Things are going to get a bit heavy from here on out, so just be warned. I hope to see all of you for the next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Short, I know. But I’m a bit rusty.. Hope you enjoyed it, constructive criticism is appreciated.


End file.
